


tell me something i'll forget

by milkdaze (flowerstems)



Category: Mystic Messenger (Video Game)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-23
Updated: 2016-10-23
Packaged: 2018-08-24 03:23:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,348
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8355079
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flowerstems/pseuds/milkdaze
Summary: Sometime between their last year of high school and the first day Jumin takes over C&R, the first time V goes on a trip for so long Jumin thinks he won't come back, they get so entangled in each other they don't know where Jumin ends and V begins.





	

Sometime between their last year of high school and the first day Jumin takes over C&R, the first time V goes on a trip for so long Jumin thinks he won't come back, they get so entangled in each other they don't know where Jumin ends and V begins.

 

Or is Jumin the only one that felt that way? He isn't sure, can't be sure without V there to laugh and say, _yes, I love you. Yes, I still mean it._

 

They've always spent time together, too much time, too little time, but it's their second year in university when Jumin comes over to the apartment V is renting (it's dim, incredibly dim, just a little brighter than the evening) and doesn't leave for a week.

 

“Why are you in this little thing?”

 

“Artistic pursuit.”

 

“You're becoming your parents.”

 

“Rich and deeply admired?”

 

“And impossibly weird.”

 

“Sounds good.”

 

The first day they just sit and talk. V shows Jumin a few polaroids—a sunset, a dawn, the empty fountain on campus, the floral hedge between the library and a lecture hall—and they seem so incredibly mundane. Jumin doesn't know how V seems to lock it all up into something small and beautiful.

 

“It's witchcraft.”

 

“No it's lighting and angles and—”

 

“I see these almost every day and they are incredibly boring.”

 

“...But?”

 

“You make them look _not_ boring.”

 

V laughs and looks confused. He says thank you and makes them two cups of instant noodles. Jumin frowns at it, picks at the noodles, but eats it anyway. It's decent. V laughs and spills some broth on his hand, laugh pinching into a hiss, and Jumin doesn't think so much as he feels himself move. The broth is saltier than the noodles, hotter as well, but Jumin hardly cares; he sucks it off the back of V's hand, the side of his wrist, and when he leans away all he thinks to say is be careful.

 

V stares at him for or moment or a minute but it feels like such a long time and Jumin can't tell what he's thinking. The response is a smile and I'll try and they finish their noodles with V talking about the weather and Jumin complaining that he can taste every chemical in their food. V puts down the cup to laugh and when they're done he takes their cups and throws them away while Jumin takes the polaroids and looks at them again to keep his eyes off V because he's suddenly aware he's been looking at him all this time.

 

It's impossible to tell when dawn, midday, dusk, and midnight come and go because the curtains are so thick and the room is so dim. Even with a light, it looks the same all the time. Jumin figures today is yesterday's tomorrow when he opens his eyes and stares at the ceiling. That or he hasn't slept at all. He checks his phone, it's Monday, a new day, and he feels the overwhelming urge to skip his lectures for the day. Perfect Jumin missing a class because he just doesn't feel like going. Shameful.

 

He's somewhere between sitting and lying down, propped up awkwardly against the wall, legs hanging off the side of V's bed, and his shoulders ache. V's in the same position except his head is dipping to the side, away from Jumin, and his neck looks like it's stretched painfully, like it'll ache when he wakes up. Jumin reaches over and slowly tugs V to lean on him, careful not to wake him up. V mumbles something but leans on Jumin, still asleep. Still asleep? Jumin wouldn't mind V waking up, he feels bored without him, but sleep is good, sleep is important. It's better to talk to V when he isn't sleepy. He seems more like himself.

 

Sleepy V makes everything feel like a dream and Jumin needs to be able to tell when they're awake.

 

It feels like two minutes or two hours before V wakes up and mumbles, "Good morning," with his head still on Jumin's shoulder.

 

“Your breath smells awful.”

 

A quiet laugh, heavy with sleep, "Yours too."

 

They stay like that for who knows how long (Jumin has the urge to check the time every now and again but he fights it, he doesn't want to time this, not this) and long after both their legs have fallen asleep and their bodies have tired of crying out in discomfort they decide to at least brush their teeth.

 

Luckily, V has an extra toothbrush—or rather, V has a toothbrush he would have started using when his toothbrush gets too old, but V gives it to Jumin—and they brush their teeth in front of a mirror meant for one, bumping into each other and knocking their heads when they both move to spit out the toothpaste-foam in their mouths. Jumin is suddenly grateful he isn't faster than V or else V would have spit onto the back of his neck. He shivers and V laughs around his toothbrush, looking at Jumin out of the corner of his eye with a gleam Jumin doesn't want to place, as though he knows exactly what Jumin is thinking.

 

They splash water onto their faces and onto each other's faces and onto each other. By the time they're done the bathroom is wet and their shirts are dripping off the towel rack (because V is a weirdo who hangs his towel over the bar with the shower curtain instead of on the towel rack).

 

V brings over a bag of cereal and they sit on the floor beside each other, cereal bag between them, and Jumin asks V if he likes living like this.

 

“Sure, it's fun. Well, not the classes. Not the assignments or tests, but everything else is.”

 

Jumin doesn't know what to say to that so he hums and eats a handful of cereal. It's so dry. V says he complains about the food too much.

 

"You want to get something else? Something _fancier_?" V teases, like he isn't a rich boy running away from his life, too.

 

"Not really," and Jumin really doesn't want to, "this is fine. I almost like it." V looks at him and smiles.

 

"That's good."

 

In the afternoon V turns on the lights and asks Jumin to lean against the wall—not the dark grey one, the light grey one.

 

“You just said grey wall, how was I supposed to know?”

 

"That's a good expression," V says, snapping two photos quickly. Jumin moves and the moment is lost forever, held only in the lucky shots V got.

 

When Jumin comes over to look at them his face pinches even more, both annoyed and confused. "I'm just frowning here, it looks awful."

 

"You would say that," V says, plucking the polaroids from Jumin's hand. "These look good and I'm going to keep them."

 

Sometimes Jumin doesn't get V at all. "Do as you like."

 

Their shirts are still damp and they're starting to feel cold so V tosses one of his bigger jerseys at Jumin, it's blue on top, white at the bottom, pinstripes in the middle, and tugs on a worn out t-shirt with a faded phrase in poor French.

 

 _Comme des fuckdown_. There's no way either of them don't know what it’s supposed to mean, more mockery than anything else. Only V would wear that and dare to look refined. Jumin snorts and V’s nose crinkles at the sound, but he tugs at his shirt to look at it and snicker, too.

 

Jumin turns the jersey V threw at him inside-out then back again. "This looks like something I'd have," Jumin says as he pulls it on. It's comfortable.

 

"You want it?" V's tugging at the neckline of his own shirt even though he's shivering and Jumin doesn't know if he wants it. They sit on the edge of the bed and Jumin doesn't really consider it.

 

"It smells like you," he says instead, wrapping an arm around V's shoulders and pulling him into his side. They're both pretty cold.

 

"That bad?" Jumin feels V's arm wrap around his waist and V gets his head comfortable in the crook of Jumin's neck.

 

"No. It's good." Jumin doesn't know how but they end up looking at each other just then and the angle is perfect, it would be so easy to kiss V. Right now he can't think of any reason why doing that would be bad, he can't think of a reason explaining why the hell he hasn't done it before, so he twists his head closer to V and V meets him halfway, mouth soft and warm, dry and tasting vaguely like the cereal they ate a while ago.

 

Both of V's hands are on Jumin's waist, fingers pressing and sliding, tickling, and Jumin's hand gets in V's hair without him realising it. V's breath is warm and welcome as he breathes it into Jumin's mouth, down his throat, between the little kisses he keeps leaving Jumin with, making him forget to take the chance to breathe as he chases V's mouth instead. V's hands are still on his waist and their idling suddenly becomes an attack, tickling Jumin until Jumin pulls away from V, laughing, falling back onto V's pillow.

 

Jumin doesn't realise his eyes were closed until he opens them.

 

V crawls up and leans over Jumin, tongue peeking out between his lips just slightly and he laughs, breathlessly. Jumin feels as though he's being allowed to witness some great truth, something that may be cosmic, and he feels absolutely at ease—the only strange thing is how quickly his heart is beating, trying to run right out of his chest. He wonders if V knows he did that to him.

 

"Don't you need to breathe?"

 

"I was getting so much air from you though."

 

"Ha. Ha. Funny," V says, dryly, but he's smiling so warmly, always smiling, Jumin doesn't know why they haven't done this before.

 

So he says as much, "Why didn't we do this sooner?"

 

"I don't know," V hums, getting closer and closer, breath warming Jumin's face, hottest over his mouth, then V sinks onto him and buries his face into the side of Jumin's neck, "maybe we're dumb."

 

Jumin watches V, looking for some sign of something, but V is perfectly still, breathing easy, and Jumin can't guess anything. "Maybe."

 

They stay like that, V nuzzled into Jumin's neck, half on him and half not, Jumin's arms wrapped loosely around V, and they only move when staying still starts to hurt. Twist, slide, roll, and they're lying down properly, legs tangled because the bed is meant for one, not two. Jumin's back is pressed to the wall and the coldness of it seeps through his shirt—V's shirt—and V lies on his side, staring at Jumin. At first it doesn't bother Jumin and then it suddenly does, suddenly he's hyperaware of the way he's breathing, the way he's lying on his arm, the way his heart beats in his chest, a little faster now.

 

"What's wrong?"

 

V shakes his head and it looks more like he's nuzzling the bed, eyes still on him. Has V always looked at him like that?

 

"I just like looking at you," V sighs and he brushes some of Jumin's hair back and out of his face. He sighs again and Jumin feels sleepy.

 

"I like looking at you, too."

 

There are slates of orange peeking through the sides of the curtains, it must be evening. Jumin skipped both lectures after all.

 

He doesn't regret it.

 

 

"You skipped your classes yesterday?" V asks around a mouthful of noodles and it's so _unlike_ him, unlike the sides of him he usually lets Jumin see and Jumin wants to see every side of V, just so, all at once. He feels overwhelmed by the desire for it. He watches V slurp a few more noodles, _greenbluegreen_ eyes wide, gaze surprised and expectant, and Jumin remembers he's supposed to respond.

 

"Yeah, I did. Didn't feel like going."

 

"Do you have any today?" is what V asks instead of _was it because of me_? The answer is the same either way, V should know.

 

"Yes. But—"

 

"We're going."

 

They finish the ramyeon and get ready in a rush because Jumin's next class is in ten minutes and halfway across campus like all his classes are. V suddenly has so much to say: that it's unlike Jumin to not rush off to class, unlike him to let someone distract him. Jumin has more than enough to say, but he only says the important things: you didn't go class either, you're not just _someone_. They stop in the middle of campus, equal distances from V's apartment and Jumin's lecture hall. It looks empty because everyone is either at home or in class, a few people sitting around in pairs, walking about in groups, and V kisses Jumin—pulls him down so quickly they almost headbutt each other but Jumin tilts his head in time and he feels too warm all over. Then V takes his hand and they're walking quickly again.

 

"Quick, which way is it?"

 

"Left, turn left here,” and right outside the lecture hall Jumin presses V against the wall to return the kiss, cradling his head with both hands so it doesn't hit the wall. Then they slip into the lecture hall through the back, Jumin takes notes on his phone with one hand while V plays with the other, scrolling through photos on his phone, neither here nor there.

 

Sometime near the end of the lecture when Jumin is typing furiously with one hand, not even thinking to use the other, V snaps a picture of him and sets it as his wallpaper. Jumin only realises when he's scrolling through V's phone later that night, after they went on a date and ate “real food” according to Jumin, and checks the home screen without thinking.

 

"What's this?" Jumin asks with a frown. It isn't as effective as he'd like because his face is flushed just enough to be noticeable in the dim light.

 

"My best friend slash boyfriend," V hums, perched on a box he doesn't actually use. It's some kind of purple-brown plastic-soft thing that V shouldn't be sitting on and Jumin says as much, calls V over, and V shouldn't be surprised when Jumin pulls him right onto him. They fall back onto the bed, knocking against each other awkwardly, painfully, but V laughs anyway.

 

The angle is bad the way they are now so Jumin flips them over and kisses V, dropping the phone near his head, and that's how they spend Tuesday night.

 

They wake up Wednesday, midday, and bump into each other while brushing their teeth. They take turns using the shower because it's cramped with just one of them, there's no way they can save water, but when they're at home they will.

 

Wednesday is nothing special but it feels long, so long it bleeds into Thursday because they spend it catching up on work and distracting each other. Kisses on the neck, hands on the arms, on the hips, stealing each other's pens, googling shit they don't need to google. Looping songs and laughing now that they're suddenly able to identify with every sweet love song and they fall asleep Friday morning, getting little done but feeling accomplished anyway.

 

It's hard to tell if this is a bad habit or something they've needed for a long, long time.

 

They sleep through Friday, wake up Saturday morning, and just like that the week is over.

 

They wash up, Jumin puts V's shirt on again, and they lie in bed, legs tangled, V nudging his toes against Jumin's foot until Jumin nudges back.

 

V laughs softly and Jumin yearns for the sound of it to spread through him and live there. "What are you thinking about?" V asks, fingers playing lazily with Jumin's, eyes lidded and dreamy.

 

Is this a dream? "I'm hoping I don't wake up."

 

V frowns, thinking, laughs then shifts closer to Jumin, "But you're awake right now."

 

Jumin hums and traces the curve of V's cheek with his finger, traces V's bottom lip with his thumb in wonderment and asks, "Are you sure?"

 

V hums in response, kisses Jumin's thumb and takes it between his lips, teeth catching the pad of it and Jumin shivers. "You never did like talking about your dreams."

 

"I was scared they wouldn't come true if I did."

 

V laughs, louder this time, and he kisses the palm of Jumin's hand before pulling Jumin into his arms and playing with his hair. Jumin feels so warm, he presses his face against V's chest and thinks he'll never leave.

 

"I love you."

 

Jumin never wants to forget the sound of V’s voice around those words, the way he felt them shake and slip out of V so easily, the way they became his favourite sound and he's addicted to it, even now.

 

Jumin visited V every week for the rest of their time in university; they spent up their time between and after classes so quickly, so easily, it scared them as much as it entranced them. They'll never escape each other.

 

Now Jumin is the CEO of his father's company and V sends him pictures every week. Pictures of dusk and dawn, flowers and the sky, gardens and places that seem insignificant until V takes pictures of them, sends them to Jumin, and then all Jumin can think about is how much he wants to be there with V.

 

Just be, just exist, with V.

 

Today is different though. Today is a Sunday and V is back from a trip, one of the longest yet, and he calls Jumin before he shows up—he doesn't have to, he knows where Jumin will be, but he does anyway. The sun is setting and it makes Jumin's office look oddly warm, but not as warm as when V walks in, taking his shades off with one hand, bottle of wine in the other, and V stops right in front of Jumin's desk. He sets the wine down and leans over in one smooth movement and Jumin has to meet him halfway, has to kiss him and not let him go. V has to brace his hands on the desk to support himself.

 

"I missed you," Jumin breathes, and he would hate how desperate he sounds except this is V. He _is_ desperate. It feels as though there was a universe between them and it's finally imploding, finally being sucked into a black hole that will pull them together, ceaselessly, until they have to separate again. All over again.

 

But right now V is here. That is enough.

 

"I missed you, too." V's face is flushed, warm under Jumin's lips, and Jumin doesn't know when his hands got tangled up in V's hair but who cares?

 

Jumin gets the wine glasses he keeps for these visits and they move to the couch, V pouring them both a glass and they talk like they haven't been apart for so long. They're both two glasses in when V looks at Jumin and it's such a dreamy look Jumin starts to think he's asleep.

 

"What are you thinking about?" Jumin asks, finally, and V looks a little surprised.

 

He looks as though he wants to say _I was just thinking that_.

 

Instead he takes a drink of wine and sets the glass down so he can sink into the couch, eyes closing for a while and when they open again they're glittering. "Whatever you're thinking about."

 

Jumin pushes his glass away and leans over to kiss him. "Are you sure?"

 

V traces a finger along his cheek, his jaw, then pushes Jumin's hair out of his face. "I love you."

 

V's mouth is soft and warm, impossibly warm, and his smile tastes like wine today. Jumin has to say it. "I love you, too."

**Author's Note:**

> yes, hello, i did what i came to do, which is mess everything up  
> eta: [HAVE YOU GUYS SEEN THIS I AM SO OVERWHELMED AND GRATEFUL I'M ON FIRE](http://heart-select.tumblr.com/post/157093995919/you-want-to-get-something-else-something)


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